The Rainmaker’s List

Have you ever said, with a determined look on your face, ‘tomorrow, dammit, I hang out laundry’?

Annnnd what happened?

Yeah. Thought so. Same thing as happened to me today, probably, after having confidently declared that ‘weather permitting, tomorrow I walk!’

Yyyyeah, notsomuch, as the rain it raineth every piggin’ day on planned parades.

‘So – you bikin’ then?’ is, I know, the next most logical question on your eager lips. To which the answer is likewise notsomuch – If this counts for anything, I’ve wiped about six or seven things off my To-Do List today – eight if you include ‘Blog,’ which, to be fair, I hadn’t today, but have on many another day. No – having woken up and weighed and found myself back within a quarter-pound of 18 stone (what a difference a day makes, as the song has it), I’ve been focusing on clearing the crap and the clutter out of my List of the many, many things I’ve had to do. While the philosophical funk remains, the more that finally disappears off that list, the lighter my mind feels about the day-to-day doing of things. So…. Yeah – lighter mind, lighter body?

No, I know, no-one’s buying that one, and nor should they, to be fair. But I feel better in any case. Have just a smidgen more time, so may just about manage to cross one more thing off my list before the day’s out. Starbucking tomorrow and Friday, but with chances of walking and biking on both days. Tomorrow’s d’s Hereversary though – 11 years ago tomorrow she landed in the UK for good, and we began the mad (and I do mean mad) run-up of things to still be done before our wedding. It’s jusssst possible there’ll be sumptuous amounts of food involved in celebrating tomorrow. Still – let’s see.

The Dreadfulness Quotient

I'm currently being affected by an odd thing - a kind of bizarre point at which which mathematics and lemmings intersect. I call it the Dreadfulness Quotient. I weighed in on Tuesday, and was up a couple of pounds - 17st 13.5. But to be fair on Wednesday, I hadn't productively employed a bathroom in about five days, and was walking around like a human recycling bin, slowly composting my entrails...as ya do.

Since then, I've been on something of a...well, not exactly a 'fuck-itfest' as a kind of 'whateverfest' - not exactly burning my world down, but not doing anything meaningful in the way of exercise, focusing on crazy deadlines, and eating more of what I want than I should. Result? Meh - weighed informally this morning and I'm back in the 18s, which sucks. Am I going to worry about it? Probably. Am I going to do anything productive about it? I'm not at all convinced, to be honest - d just asked me if I'm going walking tomorrow morning before going to Starbucks for another whole day of working. The idea pretty much horrified me. And I have an idea that I'm about to take on another project for which I may or may not realistically have time. Sooooo all in all, my life makes spectacularly little sense right now, but sense is possibly just a little overrated - as far as I can see, I'm pretty much screwed till Christmas or beyond. Disappearing will happen during this time. I actually want to get beneath 16 stone by early January. But am I fucking my brain over right now, trying to juggle everything? No - I'm in a To-Do List mentality, and I'm slamming through things at just about as as fast a rate as I can.

Which means I'll catch you tomorrow - got to go do stuff.

The Dogged Slog

There's a point, when you're Disappearing, when you actually start to lose track of what day it is. You get into a routine of doing certain things. I'd deviated the last couple of mornings, by not walking, but was back to it this morning, and it's felt very much like business as usual - up to walk, breakfast of McDonalds porridge and a bottle of water. Starbucks for much pleasure-lite coffee. Home for dinner - in this case, one can tomato soup with chilli and three slices brown bread - yes, three, bit too much, probably, but meh. Now I have one more hour before I have to get on the bike for 45 minutes to an hour of Sudoking, then collect d from work, and bed. And that will have been Saturday - much, to be fair, like Friday. I'm not, by any stretch of the imagination, complaining about that, it's been a great productive day, and many things have been obliterated from the To Do List. All I'm saying is that if you're going to Disappear, being able to acclimatise (acclimate, Americans) yourself to a degree of routine which others might find innnnncredibly dull is probably, for some swathes of time, a good trait to have. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I'm not yet sure what I'm going to do. I wouldn't though lay very strong odds against doing something similar all over again - there's a vintage fair in Cardiff that d's interested in checking out (pain threshold permitting after two gruelling twelve-hour shifts back to back). So we'll see.

Err...I do appreciate that precisely the point of today's blog entry does make it less likely to be particularly riveting as a blog entry. Some days are diamonds, I guess - some are just miles walked, and biked, and not a whole lot eaten. One thing I should say is the Mirror from yesterday smashed and buggered off, so that's useful.

Anyhow - on with the work, then on to the bike.